


In the Night

by Korpuskat



Category: Mabinogi (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Gods, Gods dont get off the same as mortals, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, Immortal/Mortal Relationship, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mythology - Freeform, Oral Sex, Reader Insert, i cant believe i wrote this, im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 04:44:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3434006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korpuskat/pseuds/Korpuskat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long day, the Milletain just wants to sleep. Instead she gets a god in her bedroom.</p><p>(Contains vague spoilers though ~G16).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Proposition

**Author's Note:**

> So this is going to be a 2-part story, or I'll just merge it into one chapter. Either way here's the first part.  
> I'm so sorry.

You'd spent quite a bit of time working on your homestead; many tools for production, a pond for relaxing fishing between dungeons, two large fields to grow crops. But most important was the large mansion you'd built on your slot of land. A beautiful building, large and decorated to the point of almost being ostentatious, when the world became a bit too hectic, it was easy to escape into your little paradise and into a perfect bed hidden away into the mansion.

After a long and bloody battle in the dungeon hidden behind Rundal, you retired back to your homestead. With no where near enough potions and barely enough feathers, the encounter with Fomors left you tired and sore-- and of course, that meant a vacation to your homestead. You immediately shucked off your armor (leaving only the under suit on), and crawled into your plush bed. In your barely awake stupor you hadn't even pulled the blanket over yourself--- 

And then the only warning you received was the soft fluttering of wings. Did an owl get in? Did one of your friends pop over with their bird? Delirious you sat up to grab your blanket and investigate the noise when the source stood before you. Taller than any human and cloaked and a black and white robe adorned with pure gold (yet unbreaking) chains, you realized a god was in your bedroom.

And it just so happened to be the god that tried to kill you a couple times. 

Immediately alarmed your arm reached back to grab your weapon, remembering, of course, that all your equipment was scattered on the floor- your weapon leaning against the closet, not even put away. You eyed it; a good roll and you could grab it, maybe make a break out of the house.

You try not to show fear; even as a demi-god- including some of Cichol's own powers- you know you could not beat him, not really. Instead you recalled defeating massive creatures of destruction, recall the monstrosity he made of Elatha, think of the long hours spent in dungeons in Tir Na Nog- which was never really Tir Na Nog (though, to be fair, that was never really his fault- it was Morrighan who lied).

With all your inner willpower you demand "Why are you here?"

He barely moves aside from the twitch of his wings (whiter than snow, you wonder why his are white, unlike any others') nearly unnoticeable. If you could see his face you could maybe understand what he was thinking, but instead thick shadows hide his appearance and you wonder if he is manipulating the darkness.

"I assisted you previously and because of that you defeated the Guardian of Partholon, acquired the Spear, and defeated Nuadha."

Though the events felt so long ago, they remained vivid in your mind, but restating your victories to you was obviously not the point. A god was going to genuinely ask something of you. The last time that happened you were still young in the world and a beautiful woman asked you to save her. You narrow your eyes, the only response you feel to give. 

Again his wings twitched, all you could think was that even with all his power he could not prevent unconscious movements. Perhaps it meant he was uncomfortable with this. Whenever he bothered to show up at an event he always had some sort of speech prepared or had some reality-shattering truth, yet here he was biding his time between responses, was he playing you or anxious?

"You Milletians have a saying-"

"Quid pro quo? Tit for tat?" You cut him off, you didn't feel like dealing with this anymore. You doubted declining him directly would be terribly good for your health. Even if he couldn't kill you (not really), he could definitely hurt you. Even just recalling absorbing the Shadow Spirit the first time you shuddered; pure agony was all you could describe it as and had no intention of experiencing it again. "What do you want?"

An edge of irritation entered his voice. "The gods are immortal, and yet are not perfect- by person or by form. " Did he want a pep talk or something...? "Others have ways of ... dealing with their imperfections: Morrighan and Nuadha; Macha's mortal; Neamhain and Morgant."

It took a moment for the gears to click into place. There was only one connection that you could see between the three sets of people. "Um," Was all you could manage, taken back by the god's words. Surely there had to be some other connection because, uh, wow. That could be a bit of a problem, and you had really no desire to take that role.

After a moment of silence, he took it as a cue to continue "By the time of my rebirth many of my followers had lost faith."

Including his, what? Concubine? "Oh," you choked out, looking away from where his face should be. You sputtered, still too shocked at his request (still yet unspoken, but you could damn well guess), "You have a lot of followers, why- why me?"

His wings shuffled, irritation somehow wafting through the feathers. "It is a long and complicated explanation that bears no weight on you."

You narrow your eyes at him again. He was by no means trustworthy, and yet he usually spoke the truth more often than the other gods you'd had the misfortune of coming across. You had no clear answer for him either, still unsure if he'd be angered at rejection. At the continued silence he spoke again:

"Though I ask for a favor returned, it would by no means be displeasurable for you. I greatly doubt you have really felt the power of the gods."


	2. Deal

You flushed hot, ducking your head again. Well, any semblance of ignorance of his request was long gone.

The idea was... pretty hot, if you were being honest. This was beyond a once in all your milletian lifetime experience, exactly how many people had actually had the opportunity to sleep with a god? ....What, uh, equipment did gods even carry? 

You looked up to where Cichol's face is behind the shadows, wondering exactly what he (and his junk) looked like. All the other gods appeared as humans with the exception of wings- and Cichol definitely seemed human- maybe a bit larger than average- but his gloves at least looked like they held humanish hands. Well, he obviously wasn't an ogre or an imp, so... Well. You mean. What the Hell, right? Besides, if it ended badly for you you still had Brionac.

You bit your lip sheepishly, a nervous grin tugging at your lips. "So, uh. Okay, I guess." 

Another shuffle of wings was, again, all the warning you got. This time he teleported to having one knee pressed into your bed and one gloved hand holding the back of your neck- black cloth and gold chains hanging close to your body. Surprised, you tried to jerk away but as unmovable as stone, his fingers gave no leniency.

And then his mouth was on your neck, hot and wet and more desperate than you would even imagine a god to be. Lips trailed lines over your neck and shoulder, up to behind your ear. He nipped at your earlobe, sucking it into his mouth and laving it with his tongue. Sighing with pleasure, this time when you move to lower yourself he let you, moving the hand from your neck to your chest where the top of your under armor is tied.

He moved his head to suck at the point where your jaw connects to your skull, a tender spot that made you shudder. Skillfully distracting you, he used the free second to begin undoing your armor, tugging it open just enough to expose your chest, immediately using one finger to trace faint designs over your flesh. 

Your hand moved to grab the back of his neck, finding only the bunched up cloth of his robe, only the vaguest idea of a body beneath it. Getting the idea he slid his mouth to the unattended breast, dragging his tongue all the way down to your nipple, flicking it with his tongue, sucking on it softly and releasing it with a small pop. He moved to the other breast, letting one hand trail down your body, over the under armor to press the flat of his palm between your legs.

Overcome with sudden desperation, you bucked against his hand, needing the friction. You grabbed at your under armor, pushing it off your shoulders. Cichol stopped only for a moment to yank off the rest of the suit- and your underwear- off your body. With the rest of your skin revealed, the god repositioned himself between your legs. He again licked, nipped, and kissed a trail down your mid section, the sensation almost ticklish under the lustiness. 

His hands moved to push your thighs apart further as he neared your sex. Still nervous despite your continuously growing desire, your legs flexed inward in a futile attempt to hide again, but again his hands were immovable. 

As he reached the apex he paused. Between the hood of his robe and the shadows over his face you didn't dare wonder what he was thinking. Instead he moved to the right a tad and trailed his tongue in the junction between your hip and your thigh. Shuddering you let a hand rest atop the hood of his robe in a subconscious attempt to push he where you wanted him most.

If he minded the few touches you've returned, he hadn't shown it. Following your gentle redirection, he held your hips down with one hand, using the other to hold open one lip. He stilled there for a moment. You near jumped when the tongue that had trailed so much of your body pressed flat over your folds, a broad swath the continued up so he could circle your clit with the tip of his tongue. 

Moaning again, your hips tried to jerk and grind again his mouth, but his hand held you in place, entirely at his mercy. Though he'd complied with your desire before, he seemed to have no need to rush now. While his tongue slid around your clit- his bottom lip slid over your folds, teasing your entrance so softly. He dragged his tongue lower, sliding over the thin bit of flesh between your clit and entrance- a strange feeling making you gasp and try to grind your hips again.

His tongue continued down to circle your vagina, pressing just barely inside. Sliding in further his nose bumped against your clit again. So sensitive and overcome with the feeling of his mouth on your sex, you bit your free hand to ground and silence yourself. Despite your self control, you couldn't stop trying to grind against him with your hips and hand- neither of which were particularly working. 

He was obviously taking his time to let you cum, staying true to his word. In your pleasure haze you take in the image between your legs. Literally a god's mouth was pleasing you- the image hidden with his black and white hood- weighted down to rest on your skin with the golden symbol. The hand that been holding your hips to the bed shifted, moving one leg firmly oven his shoulder- your toes nearly touching the white feathers of his wings. Pleased with his new angle, the hand returned to holding you in place as he flicked his tongue systematically up and down over your clit.

Groaning, in time with his teasing licks, you watched his wings- huge and white and jerking and trembling irritably. His lips locking around your clit and sucking narrowed your world view to solely where his skin touched yours. Aching and needing to cum you whined against your hand, releasing it from your teeth and grabbed the sheets, twisting. He laved his tongue over your clit and sucked again. This time you cried out. 

"Please..." 

Your hips jerked again, so far gone you didn't even care he was stopping you- even just the pressure of his hand was some relief. You don't know if it was planned or he just felt merciful, but he slid a finger inside you, crooking it upwards. He sucked your clit again, this time flicking it with his tongue and rubbing inside you in rhythm.

It was all too much too fast. His solid grasp relaxed and your hips rolled against his hand. Your hands tightened in their respective clothes. Apparently pulling at Cichol's hair, making him groan against your sex. The vibrations of his voice was your undoing. You went stiff, gasping, jerking- your mind completely blank with your mind-numbing orgasm, only able to focus on the pleasure crashing over you, just barely aware of the sensation of Cichol continuing his ministrations and lengthening your orgasm as long as he could. 

(Beyond your currently orgasm-hazed, distracted perception, Cichol shuddered and gasped against your folds).

Coming back to Erinn took notably longer than usual, aware only of the weight of your limbs and the pleasant buzz of the aftershocks of what was probably the best orgasm of your life. As the world came back into focus you were aware only of the lack of weight on your lower body. Opening your eyes again Cichol was standing at the foot of the bed, his posture again otherworldly and removed from the physical.

Without another word, his wings spread wide (and if you weren't so satisfied you would've been a little afraid) and closed over him- and he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, whoops. My hands slipped all over my keyboard.


End file.
